


Take the Black Off a Crow

by Zee (orphan_account)



Series: Take a Breath That's True [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-20
Updated: 2006-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny's life is sometimes confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take the Black Off a Crow

**Author's Note:**

> AU after the Death and Return of Superman. Thanks to Petra for nudging me to finally finish, and Betty for the beta.

When the door to his bedroom creaks open, Johnny is still groggy from waking up in the middle of the night. He sits up, squinting at the sudden influx of harsh light from the hallway. "Muh?" Is all he can muster.

"Johnny?" Dick is a silhouette in the doorway, his voice so soft that Johnny can barely hear it.

"Mm, yeah? What's up?" Johnny covers a yawn and moves to get up, doing his best to appear like he's ready for whatever middle-of-the-night mission they need to go off on, but Dick's hand is on his chest, pushing him back down.

And now that Dick's closer, Johnny can see that all he's wearing is a pair of white briefs. Which is weird enough, but then in one smooth motion Dick is straddling him on the bed. "Uh--" Johnny says, but Dick puts a hand over his mouth. Which is good, because Johnny has *no* idea what he was going to say.

Dick smiles above him, slow and wide and sexy. "Shh." He moves against Johnny, a slow roll of his hips, and it's--Johnny's half-hard, and it's embarrassing and he needs to get Dick *off* him before he gets all the way hard and loses any plausible deniability. But Dick's hands are still warm on his chest, holding him down and brushing over his nipples, and when Dick says "Shh," again he *grinds* down.

"Aahh," Johnny says, or something like that because he thinks his vocal chords have stopped working. He lets his head fall back when Dick rubs his thumbs over his nipples, and then, oh god, leans down to *lick* him. It's too much, and Johnny wants--he wants to kiss Dick, and it's like Dick read his mind because there he is, biting down on Johnny's lip and moaning into his mouth.

"Dick, I--I want, I love--" Dick squeezes Johnny *hard* through the material of his tights, and Johnny stops babbling and makes a strangled, gurgly sound instead. 

"I know," Dick breathes against his mouth. "I love you, Johnny. And every night I've wanted to do this to you, I just couldn't hold back anymore--"

"You don't--" Another squeeze and a *stroke* and Johnny cries out. "--Don't hold back, oh god, *Dick*--"

Dick's lips are warm and wet on his jaw, his neck, and Johnny can't help but arch up. Dick's hand feels strong and sure on his cock, rubbing his balls and squeezing him and sliding in underneath Johnny's tights. Skin against skin feels even better, and Johnny gropes out blindly, touching Dick's skin anywhere and everywhere he can reach.

Dick bites him and then sighs against his neck. "Oh, Johnny. I want you, I love you, I want to fuck you--"

"Fuck, Dick, yes, *please*--" Dick bites him again and strokes him harder, faster, rubbing his thumb over Johnny's foreskin and the head of his cock, and Johnny's eyes roll back in his head--

His alarm is set to an alt-rock radio station, and Johnny wakes up to what sounds like screaming, even though in reality it's just a guitar. The images of the dream fade and he scrambles, hitting the alarm clock too hard with his TTK before he can turn it off manually: it bounces off the wall and slides to the ground, broken.

"Shit." Another dead clock radio and his sheets are soaked. Not just soaked--*sticky.* _"Fuck."_

This is the third time in the past two weeks that he's had to sneak out of his bedroom and wash his sheets before school. It's gross and stupid and it's always the same damn dream--a little bit different each time, but still. Dick in his bedroom, Dick bending him over the motorcycle (he hadn't stopped blushing about that one for days), Dick in the sky. 

It was bad enough when it was just a crush. Johnny doesn't need the nightly reminder of how he feels, or the reminder of how far away the reality is from the dreams.

it's just his luck that Dick is already up, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper in the kitchen. Johnny tries to sneak past him to the stairs that lead down the laundry room, but Dick glances up. He takes one look at the sheets bunched in Johnny's arm and smirks.

"Oh man. It's *that* time of adolescence for you, isn't it?" He winks.

It's a good thing that Johnny can blame his blushing on the existence of the wet dreams, rather than what those dreams were *about*. "Shut up! It's not--I just need to--"

Dick laughs and is beside Johnny before Johnny can escape, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, I've been a teenager before." He holds his arms out. "Here, you have to go to school. I can take care of the--" He snickers. "--the laundry."

Johnny's cheeks prickle with embarrassment. "I've got it," he snaps. "Just--leave me alone." He jerks away from Dick's hand and hurries down the stairs, ignoring what sounds like Dick apologizing behind him.

He eats breakfast quickly after sticking the sheets in the washing machine, not speaking to Dick. It has less to do with being mad at Dick (although the "It's only normal" talks don't *help* on that front), and more to do with his inability to look Dick in the eye without flushing or thinking about last night's dream. It had felt so real at the time, right down to the calluses on Dick's fingertips, the smell of his breath.

And if Johnny thinks about it much longer, he's going to get hard again. He declines Dick's offer of a ride to school--it's a pain in the ass to fly and then land far enough away from the school to change and walk the rest of the way, but this morning he doesn't mind it. 

It's better that evening, after he's suffered through the boredom of high school and can look forward to patrol. Dick catches him taking his laundry out of the dryer and snickers some more; Johnny sticks his tongue out, and Dick ruffles his hair and says "You're growing up so *fast!*" in an affected voice, they laugh and things are back to normal.

As normal as anything can be when you have a hopeless crush on your... friend? Mentor? Older-brother-except-not-really? Johnny isn't sure. All he knows is that none of the other guys in his gym class or his english class have this problem. Some of the girls might, but that doesn't exactly make him feel *better.*

He was hoping for an action-filled night to distract him from... from things, but instead Nightwing sends him to watch a mostly abandoned alley, because of a tip-off he got about a drug deal going down. There's absolutely nothing going on, and after about a half hour Johnny is dying of boredom.

Johnny flies higher. He closes his eyes, concentrating: If he stays utterly still, if he drops his TTK aura as much as he can, he can ride the air currents up here, letting the columns of hot air over Blüdhaven carry him. It wouldn't work if he didn't have at least some TTK keeping him afloat--the drafts aren't strong enough to keep a human in the air--but still, it's fun.

"Superboy, anything yet?" Dick's voice is loud and sudden in his comm, and it makes Johnny jump in mid-air.

"Uh...." He swoops down closer to the city, to the block he's supposed to be keeping an eye on. "Nope, nothing. This area's totally dead--not even a purse-snatcher in sight."

"Hmm. Okay, at this point it's likely that our tip-off was a bust, but stick around for another hour just to be certain."

"Oh, come on! This is totally boring--I'm not even *doing* anything. Can't I come help you out?" Johnny can hear vague fighting noises in the background on Dick's end--he's probably having way more fun than Johnny is.

"I don't need back-up." Dick's voice sounds amused even through the static-y crackle of the comm. "What I need is for you to make sure no big meth exchanges go down in Magdalena Blvd. tonight."

"But--"

"Think of it as an opportunity to practice your meditation. Nightwing out."

Johnny scowls and perches on a fire escape. He's way too antsy to try to meditate--and every time he closes his eyes, images from his dream last night appear. But at least he can practice his telekinesis.

He touches a finger lightly to the top of the stair rail and stares at the bars, concentrating. He bends three carefully back and forth, like they're waving in the wind. He narrows his eyes and one of the bars disconnects from the rest of the stairs, wobbling towards him--

"Wow." Superman's voice is suddenly right there, jolting Johnny out of his task. The metal bars pop out of place and clatter to the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry, let me get those," Superman says, swooping down to grab the bars.

"I can fix-" Johnny starts to say, but Superman is already using his heat vision to weld the bars back in place. Good as new.

"That was very impressive, what you were doing there." Superman's smile is big and a little shy, except that it's *Superman* and Superman doesn't get shy. "I wasn't aware that your telekinesis had progressed so far."

Johnny feels his stupid face blush, and shrugs, standing up and floating above the street with Superman. "Yeah, well. It's, you know, nothing compared to, like, heat vision and arctic breath."

Superman frowns a little. "We could argue about that, but even so--" the smile is back, and Superman's hand claps him on the back. "It looks like you're doing very well."

Johnny stops himself from shrugging again. Or scratching the back of his neck, or shuffling his feet, or. "Um. Thanks."

Superman squeezes his shoulder before letting his hand drop. His hand is bigger, warmer than Dick's. 

"Are you... busy at the moment? I was hoping--well--heh." Superman looks--he *would* look abashed if he weren't Superman. "I have something to show you. Johnny."

"Um. I have to patrol this block for another forty-five minutes."

"Don't worry about it, Superboy." Johnny manages not to jump this time at Dick's voice in his ear. Geez, thank god he and Superman weren't talking about anything embarrassing. (Not that you could talk about embarrassing things with Superman.) "Superman has a long history of saving teenaged vigilantes from boring patrols."

Superman grins. "All right, then. Fly with me?"

Flying with Superman definitely beats hanging out in an empty alleyway. He thinks. Probably. "Yeah! Yeah, sure, um. Let's go."

They shoot up into the sky, higher and higher until they're above the clouds, airplanes and jets. Johnny thinks that they're headed South, but he's never been good with directions, and this high up there are no landmarks to judge by.

He has to strain himself to keep up with Superman, and he knows that Big Blue isn't even flying as fast as he could. "So where are we going, Superman?"

Superman looks at him, his face unreadable. "Kal-el."

"Uh. What?"

Superman ducks his head, smiling a little. "You can call me Kal. It doesn't have to be 'Superman' all the time."

"Oh." Johnny blinks. "Weird name. Is that your secret identity?"

"Superman--Kal?--smiles, and turns until he's flying on his back, his hands clasped behind his head. "Not exactly. It's my Kryptonian name."

"Oh." Johnny can't picture what Superman's alien parents might look like. Can't picture Superman having parents, period.

Superman stops flying/lounging and shoots down though the clouds. Johnny follows him, and only panics for a second when he can't find him--then Superman's hand taps his shoulder.

"This is what I wanted to show you. Part of it, anyway." The last of the clouds part and disappear, and Johnny can see that they're somewhere cold, frozen--Antarctica, maybe? And there's some kind of building or castle or just an exceptionally huge ice sculpture rising up from the ground. It's creepy and looks precarious, like it could collapse or just melt at any second, but Superman is flying in through what looks like the doors, and Johnny follows.

Once inside, Johnny gawks. "Uh. This is. Wow. Is this where you *live?*"

Kal-not-Superman laughs. "No, this is more like... a headquarters, of sorts. More like a refuge." 

Johnny can't stop staring at everything. It's so... it's *alien* and kind of freaky but not bad freaky. He thinks. Are the walls *breathing?*

"Come this way. There's something I need you to see." Johnny hurriedly follows Superman, carefully ignoring the breathing walls.

The hallway they're walking down opens up into a... a really freaking *big* room. Johnny's first thought is that it kind of reminds him of the Batcave, except that this is Superman, so really not so much. There's a chair in the center, and the walls look... mirrored or transparent or covered in holograms or something. If Johnny stares at the walls or ceiling for too long, he gets dizzy.

Superm--Kal is looking at him, and after a while Johnny meets his eyes. "This is... uh. It's very nice."

Kal gives him a crooked, amused smile. "It suits me. This room--there's a lot of information stored in these walls. A lot of... " He takes a breath, and looks at the chair; Johnny follows his gaze, but it's just a chair. "Here. Sit."

Johnny finds himself being guided to the chair, and--it looks a lot less like 'just' a chair now and more like something that gives Johnny the serious heeby-jeebies, but he sits down anyway. The metal is cold under his ass, and he squirms a little until Kal puts a hand on his shoulder.

Kal says something in another language that makes the hair on the back of Johnny's neck stand up. And then--the walls light up and there are pictures and sounds and it's like the whole world falls away. The only thing keeping Kon sure that they're *not* actually suddenly floating in space is the warmth of Kal's hand on his shoulder.

"Holy *shit,*" Johnny says, or starts to say, but then Kal's hand squeezes and they zoom in on a planet and Johnny shuts up.

Places and names and battles and *stories* fly past Kon's eyes. He's there, he's *experiencing* it, he's on Krypton and this--Johnny can't think. It's too much, it feels like it's being imported right into his brain, like he's back in that murky time in the tube feeling algebra and Shakespeare and the english language poured into his mind.

And then there's a flash of white, and it's over. Johnny blinks a lot.

Beside him, he hears Kal cough. "Erm. Sorry about that; I'd forgotten that this technology can be... somewhat overwhelming for humans." He sounds embarrassed.

Johnny rubs at his eyes to clear the spots. "Yeah, but I'm not human, right? I'm fine." Better than fine. He feels buzzed, jittery and awake and excited.

Kal smiles at him. "How much of that did you understand?"

"Uh." Johnny thinks, trying to sort through the chunks of information in his head. "Most of it, I think. All that stuff about Black Zero, and Nightwing and Flamebird, and Jor-el and Kon-el and Lara-el.... that's a lot of El's." 

Kal snorts. "Yes. It is--was--my family crest, back on Krypton. I don't remember any of them, but..." He looks up at the ceiling, which is back to being swirly and opaque, as if he can see through it to the stars.

Which he probably can, Johnny realizes. The whole x-ray vision thing, which the scientists at Cadmus didn't see fit to share with Johnny. He looks down at his boots.

Kal sighs, and Johnny looks back up. "Anyway. Johnny--this is your heritage, too. Your name. If--if you want it." Kal's cheeks flush. "The name Kon-el was part of my family for centuries; it would have been my cousin's name, back on Krypton."

Johnny blinks again, feeling like a moron. "Oh," he says, and his voice sounds funny. "You mean--I--"

Kal's hand is back on his shoulder. "It might be a little late for this, but... if you want this, it's yours. The name, and what it means. I just--I want you to know that you're welcome here." Kal's cheeks are really red now, and Johnny doesn't understand everything he's saying, but he understands enough to make it a little harder to breathe.

"Oh," he says again, feeling like an even bigger tool. He can't, *can't* look Kal in the eye, and stares at his boots again. "Thanks. I mean--really. Thank you. A lot. Um."

"You don't have to thank me, Kon-el." Kal's hand slips off his shoulder, and Johnny's breath hitches. Kal glances up through-the-ceiling again, and smiles, rueful. "You should probably get back, though. It will be dawn soon, in Blüdhaven."

And Dick is waiting for him. "Right! Right. Okay. Um." Johnny hesitates. "I'll see you later, Kal."

Kal's grin this time is bright and sunny and all Superman; it's impossible not to grin back. "I hope so. Do you know the way back?"

"Yeah, I'll find it okay. Um. Bye." Flying away from the Fortress pulls at him a little, makes his chest constrict in a way that Johnny isn't familiar with. And then he's in the sky, in the clouds and he can just fly until what he just saw starts to make sense.

It's almost six am by the time he gets back to Blüdhaven, and the sky is getting lighter.

He flies through the window. Dick is still up, wearing only the bottom half of his costume, his tights riding low on his hips. There are a few new bandages on his sweaty back. He turns around, looking up from whatever he was going through on the table, and grins when Johnny lands on the floor.

"Hey there. Did you have fun with Superman?"

Johnny frowns. "I thought you said you didn't need help tonight," he says, gesturing to the fresh scrapes on Dick's back and chest. And blushes a little, because... because.

"What? Oh, these are just cuts and bruises. No big deal." Some of the 'cuts and bruises' certainly look like a big deal, but before Johnny can open his mouth Dick is talking again. "So how was Big Blue? You guys were gone for a while."

"Uh, yeah. Um." Dick's grin is relaxed and his body is still covered with a slight sheen of sweat. Johnny sits down on the couch.

"He gave me another name. Well--first we went to his hideout in Antarctica, and then he told me his Kryptonian name, Kal-el, and then he showed me all this Kryptonian history and stuff, and--" Johnny remembers to take his mask off, blinking at the change in the light. "Um. He says my name is Kon. Kon-el."

Dick isn't grinning anymore, but he doesn't look angry or upset. He's just watching Johnny, waiting for... something. "Kon-el. Huh."

"Yeah." The silence is weird, and Johnny's not sure why. "I guess it was the name of his cousin on Krypton, some relative of his dad's, maybe. He says it's a family name."

The corner of Dick's mouth quirks. "Yeah? And what do you think?"

Johnny shrugs. "I dunno. I'm not really Kryptonian."

"Superman obviously thinks you're Kryptonian enough to share his legacy," Dick says, raising an eyebrow. "And seeing as he's the only authority on the matter..."

Johnny takes his gloves off, picking at a loose thread. "Yeah, I guess."

He knows Dick is watching him without having to look up, and it's--Dick is always intense, but when he's really *focusing* on Johnny, it's something Johnny feels all over, making his skin prickle. "Do you want me to start calling you Kon?"

When Johnny *does* look up, Dick is still not-quite-smiling at him, and Johnny can't quite read the look on his face. It's tense, but open, gentle--Johnny needs to answer the damn question. "I--no. I mean--I don't know? I don't think it would... it would feel weird. I mean, I." He laughs a little and drags a hand over his face. "I just officially became 'Jonathan Grayson' a few days ago, and I know that's not *really* me, but--"

"It is if you want it to be." Dick's voice is sharp, and something in his eyes flashes.

Johnny smiles, weakly. "Dick, c'mon. The birth certificate is fake. So is the social security card. It's not real, not like Superboy real."

"It *can* be." Dick crosses the room in a few strides, crouching down in front of Johnny. "You don't have to let the mask be the be-all and end-all of who you *are.* I want--you have to know that there are other options for you."

Dick is right *there,* his eyes blue and earnest and his lips slightly parted. Johnny swallows and looks down. "I--I know. I just meant. Um. The whole name thing is just... it's a little confusing. That's all."

"I can see that." Dick's voice is back to being gentle; his hand rests on Johnny's knee for a second before moving. "You can go by whatever name you choose. I'd be perfectly happy to call you Kon-el."

Johnny wants Dick's hand on his knee again. "No, I--I like being Jonathan Grayson. I mean... it's... we're family. Right?"

Dick ducks his head, his hair falling over his face. "I'll know that no matter what name you use."

There's that thing, pulling on Johnny's chest again. "Yeah, well.... if I try to go by Kon I'll probably just confuse myself and accidentally call myself 'Konnie'."

Dick laughs, Johnny grins, and the weird tension leaves the room. "Okay. Let me know if you ever change your mind." He stands up, stretching, and Johnny has to avert his eyes to keep from reaching out and touching all that exposed skin. "I'm beat, and you look exhausted. Plus, you have high school tomorrow." He pulls Johnny to his feet. "Go on. A short nap is better than no sleep at all."

Johnny snorts and stands up as well. "Uh, huh. You could just not make me go."

Dick's hand squeezes his shoulder, then pushes him in the direction of his room. "Sorry. It's only the second week; too early to decide it's not the right thing for you."

Johnny grumbles and Dick punches him lightly in the shoulder. He brushes his teeth and gets into his pajamas; that night, he dreams that Kal is taking him to Krypton for 'a vacation,' while Dick grabs his ass and whispers something in Kryptonian in his ear. Kal keeps glowing red and blue, and he looks angry, and Johnny is trying to focus on why he wants to go to Krypton, but then Dick gets naked and kisses the back of Johnny's neck, and Johnny wakes up with sticky sheets.


End file.
